


Something Like a Home

by disco-vorcha (RiviyanQuesta)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Character Study, Gen, and an infiltrator femshep, the rest of the crew is mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6778912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiviyanQuesta/pseuds/disco-vorcha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the places in the entire galaxy that Jack imagined finding a sense of belonging, a fucking Cerberus ship didn't even make the list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Like a Home

**Author's Note:**

> I basically always have Jack feels. Join me in hell.

Of all the places in the entire galaxy that Jack imagined finding a sense of belonging, a fucking Cerberus ship didn't even make the list. She wasn't even here by her choice, but purchased by the Illusive Man and the other option was death on a destroyed prison ship.

So yeah, she's pretty angry. Maybe just once in her fucking life could she decide what she wanted to do? Where she wanted to be? 

But Commander Shepard wasn't forcing her to stick around. She'd been clear on that from the beginning: if Jack wanted to leave, Shepard would give her a pile of Cerberus credits and leave her wherever she wanted. So Jack found herself with a choice, a real one, for the first time in her life. At first, she stuck around because the choice was overwhelming. How do you even start to know what you want when your entire life has been lived at the whim of others? But eventually, so slowly that she didn't notice it happening, Jack stayed on the Normandy because she wanted to be there.

It was a Cerberus ship, nominally. Shepard gave her access to Cerberus files and was clearly using Cerberus for her own ends. There were a bunch of aliens on the ship, and counted among the commander's inner circle.

She did stay on the engineering deck most of the time. The nook she'd staked out as her space was out of the way, and most people left her alone. Crowds were overwhelming to Jack, who'd been isolated most of her life. But the others who spent their time on this deck weren't a problem. The Cerberus engineers were pretty much harmless, and Jack always knew where they were, because that Scottish one wouldn't ever shut up. The bickering became background noise.

Tali was all right. She seemed pretty harmless at first glance, but Jack had fought alongside her and knew the quarian was deceptively deadly. Jack had never been subtle, and Tali made subtlety an art form. Grunt, the krogan, Jack liked him. He was fun in a fight; he shared her delight in violence and mayhem. They could rip through a dozen enemies before Shepard even got her sniper rifle aimed.

Jack's favourite was Zaeed, though. The mercenary was easily twice her age (and then some) and maybe even as scarred as she was. He wasn't afraid of Jack, and he didn't pity her, either. And he didn't insist on talking all the time, like Shepard did. Shepard wanted to _know_ things. Zaeed already knew. Jack was working her way up to asking him if he'd take her with him when this was all over. They'd work well together. He'd been there on Pragia, saw where she'd come from, and took it in stride. And he understood why she had to blow it up. 

Shepard took Jack to Zorya, for Zaeed's turn at revenge. She watched it slip away from him, twenty years of his life devoted to this one goal, and then watched it escape. Shepard talked Zaeed around, because damn Shepard was persuasive, and that night Jack and Zaeed drank together in silence.

Jack avoided the crew deck as much as she could, since that was where Miranda's office was, and Shepard had extracted a promise from them both that they wouldn't attempt to turn the other into a smear on the bulkhead. This was best achieved by not even looking at the Cerberus princess. She couldn't pretend Miranda didn't exist, because that would be irresponsible; what if Jack had to fight her? No way would Jack let Miranda get the drop on her.

As for the rest, Thane was really intense and it made Jack uncomfortable to be caught under that gaze. Garrus spent all his time in the main battery, calibrating that damn gun, so Jack rarely saw him anyway. Kasumi tiptoed around Jack in a way that just pissed Jack off more. Mordin was a twitchy little guy but he knew his way around a fight. Jacob was Cerberus but not like Miranda. Jacob was solid and steady and it almost lulled Jack into a false sense of security, like she didn't need to worry about him.

Samara was an enigma. Calm, collected, utterly lethal. A formidable biotic talent. Maybe in some other life, Jack could have been like her. Not this one, though; Jack was too full of anger, and hurt, and ugly thoughts that pressed down on her mind while she tried to sleep. Though sometimes, Jack could almost see all those things in Samara, too. The way she always carefully considered her words and actions. Jack wondered what initial reactions and urges were suppressed by Samara's measured demeanour. 

They sparred sometimes, and compared their techniques. Samara, like Zaeed, neither feared nor pitied Jack. She _respected_ Jack. That was new, and it showed Jack that fear was not at all like respect. Samara would come down to Jack's engineering-deck hidey-hole and they'd throw each other around the cargo bay for awhile, until both were aching and bruised and satisfied with the workout. Samara always invited Jack to meditate with her afterwards, but Jack hadn't taken her up on the offer. She'd tell Samara that meditation really wasn't her thing, and Samara would study her for a moment before nodding once and thanking her for the workout.

Who knew what the future would hold after this batshit insane Collectors mission? But for the present, Jack was fine with where she was. She wouldn't say happy, since she had no idea what that would even look like. But it was the first time she didn't feel the urge to run, to keep moving, burning under her skin. 

It was a start.


End file.
